


Hold Me Close

by BBQkitten



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Homeless Jeremy, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Multi, Past Child Abuse, Protective Geoff Ramsey, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 09:25:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11414988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BBQkitten/pseuds/BBQkitten
Summary: These hands would save him, hold him, take care of him. Take him away from the blue, purple, and fading yellow handprints that consumed the rest of his body. Take him away from the heavy hands of his father whose drunken conservative ideals believed that a firm enough hand could rid his son of those multiple masculine handprints.Alternatively: The soulmate!AU where you're born with your soulmate's first touch imprinted on your body and Jeremy really needs this love.





	Hold Me Close

Jeremy wrapped his tiny arms around his seven year old body in a mockery of a hug as he glared at the fingers seared to the tips of his shoulders, wrapping forwards towards his collarbone. The black stood in stark contrast to his soft milky white skin, only colored by the fading purple, blue, and yellowing bruises that decorated his body. He reached one shaky hand to stroke one of the fingers, finding a small comfort at the warm tingle it sent through his body. These long fingers belonged to someone. Tall—probably, Jeremy thought—very tall—and skinny. Maybe he played piano, he had the fingers for it. 

He. That was the problem, wasn’t it? Those fingers belonged to a he. Not a she. 

Jeremy released himself, pulling his arms away from his body so he could inspect the other set of black handprints that marred his body, thick, masculine fingers wrapping around his tiny wrists. Another he. This one was strong, sturdy, a brick wall of security. Jeremy often found himself holding his wrists late at night as he laid underneath his bed, trying to imagine how nice of hugs such big hands gave. 

A sharp bang on the door broke Jeremy from his reverie. “Get the fuck out of the bathroom, you goddamn poly faggot.” 

Jeremy jumped to action, quickly dressing, ignoring the sharp sting it brought to his sore stomach as he bent over to pull up his pants. He hurriedly opened the door and tried to scurry around his dad, failing to duck out of the smart smack to the back of his head he received for taking too long. “Sorry, dad,” he mumbled, tripping out of the way as he fled back to his bedroom. 

“You will be, you piece of shit,” his father yelled, as Jeremy closed his door as fast as possible. He leaned his back against the wood, heart racing as he took deep, steadying breaths, praying his father didn’t make good on that promise. 

 

At fourteen Jeremy was a master at the art of covering up for his father’s drunken lessons. 

He was running through the house and tripped into the doorknob. He twisted his ankle playing football with the neighbor kids. He miss-stepped going down the stairs and landed on his arm wrong. 

He wore long sleeves to hide the discoloration on his skin. Only owned clothes two sizes too big to hide the gaunt figure hiding underneath—eating was a privilege he didn’t often deserve, his father would remind him. Used a pinched razor on his hips to take back some semblance of control of his life, to steady the shaking in his hands. Avoided looking in the mirror at all costs. Those precious, kind hands against such a pitiful excuse of a human being made an absolute eyesore to look at, he decided long ago. His father had been right from the very beginning, to despise his son so vocally—Jeremy grew to see the appeal. It didn’t mean Jeremy enjoyed getting the shit beat out of him though, so the day he turned eighteen he fled, taking the first bus out of Boston heading south as far as his meager savings could take him. 

He ended up in Little Rock with seven dollars left to his name. Catching a ride with an overly friendly trucker who sang off key to shitty country music all the way down to Austin. There, Jeremy began to wander, unsure what to do with himself now that he didn’t have his father breathing down his neck, ready to attack at any wrong move. He briefly wondered if his father even noticed that he was gone before quickly dismissing that idea—his father was probably celebrating his son’s disappearance with the good liquor. 

He spent the next three weeks wandering the streets, sleeping in alleys behind dumpsters and scavenging half-eaten leftovers from the trash. Washing up became sort of an art form for him, a balancing act of washing his face and body and clothes with the hand soap in local gas stations in under five minutes so as to not get caught loitering. Every gas station he went into he asked the attendant on his way out if they were hiring. Every time the person would take one good look at him and tell him no. It was weeks later that Jeremy was doing that same exact routine and asked the elderly lady behind the counter if they had any openings. She gave him a sad smile and gestured to the stack of blank applications next to the counter. 

Jeremy gave her a wide smile and hurriedly began to fill it out pausing when he got to the address and phone number portion. He stood staring at the words for what seemed like hours. 

“Is everything alright, son?” She asked, leaning over the counter to peer at his application. 

“What—what if I don’t have an address?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

She gave him a pitying frown, reaching out to pat his hand gently, “You need to have an address in order to apply, honey.”

Jeremy snorted, setting down his pen and stepping back. “So I need an address to get a job and I need a job to get an address? How is anyone supposed to do that?” He shook his head and walked out of the store, hitching his backpack higher up on his shoulder. 

The sound of hurried footsteps sounded behind him but he ignored it, assuming that it was someone running late. “Hey, kid!” 

Jeremy paused, turning around slowly to see a guy with an intimidating mustache and tattoos covering both his arms jogging towards him. He cocked his head, debating running away as this man couldn’t mean anything good. Before he could turn away however the man caught up to him and stopped in front of him, breathing a little heavy. “Heard you back at the gas station. The system sucks, kid.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes at this guy’s astute observation. “No shit.”

The man laughed, “How old are you?”

“Eighteen,” He bristled, standing up straighter.

“I’m Geoff,” The man stated, sticking out his hand.

Jeremy hesitantly took Geoff’s hand, shaking it lightly. “Jeremy.”

Geoff smiled, rocking back on his heals once his hand was release, “Well Jeremy. I have an offer for you, if you’re interested.”

The young man cocked his head, eyes narrowing in distrust, but with nothing left to loose he had no reason to walk away without hearing what the dude had to say first. “And what might that be?”

“A job. One of my video editors just quit. And I’m in desperate need to fill that desk.”

Jeremy shook his head. “I barely know how to use a computer, man.”

Geoff laughed, motioning towards a café across the street. “I wouldn’t just throw you to the wolves Jeremy. Most of my employees didn’t come from an editing background.” He guided Jeremy inside the building, ordering two coffees and two breakfast sandwiches. Taking the food and setting half of it in front of Jeremy once they were seated in a booth. “We’d teach you.” The man gestured to the food on the table, “Eat,” he stated, starting in on his own sandwich.

Jeremy hesitantly took a bite from his own breakfast, nearly moaning at the taste of good, hot food. “Why?” He asked, narrowing his eyes in distrust, “Why me?”

“You’re not a bad kid, Jeremy, I can see that. And I’d hate to see someone like you fade away because the government doesn’t give a shit about helping the people who are just trying to survive in this backwards country.” 

“You can’t know I’m a good person.”

Geoff smiled, leaning forward slightly, “Nah, s’in your eyes, kid. You’re a good, honest soul just looking for work. I’m providing.”

He folded his arms across his chest, leaning back. “And how do I know you’re a good person? You could be anyone. You could be a serial killer that just wants to lure me away to violently torture and murder me.”

The older man threw his head back with a loud, boisterous laugh that turned heads from neighboring tables, “That’s more Ryan’s thing, kid. But only in the video games.” His laugher settled and he gave Jeremy a soft smile. “Rooster Teeth is only a few blocks away, I was on my way there when I overheard you. You can walk there with me and see for yourself that I’m not lying to you if you want.”

“Rooster Teeth? Sounds fake as shit, man.” Jeremy sighed, standing up with Geoff and shrugging, “Fuck it, not like I have anything to loose anyway. Lead the way.”

Geoff furrowed his eyebrows at the younger man but said nothing as they walked out of the café, keeping the lad next to him so he didn’t lose the boy in the morning foot traffic. 

“So what would I be doing for you exactly anyways?” Jeremy asked, giving Geoff a critical side-eye.

“Editing lets plays me and the crew film, helping us film live action stuff, work on game builds with Matt and Trevor. There’s a lot of fucking around involved with this job—the b-team are trying to grow sea monkeys right now.”

“And me being homeless isn’t an issue?” He asked, skeptical.

Geoff gave him a considering look as they made their way into a warehouse-type building. “It wouldn’t be. Lots of employees are housed by other employees here. You’d take up a room in one of our homes until you could get back on your feet. It’s a common practice at this company, we’re constantly uprooting people and relocating them here so housing them until they can get a place of their own the norm. Gavin just moved out of my place so I have a room. I know Burnie also has a room available. You’d have an address.”

Jeremy snorted, looking around at the high ceilings and bundles of cords running along the floors, “You make it a habit of taking in homeless kids?”

“Nah. I have to admit: you’re a first,” Geoff snickered, ruffling Jeremy’s dirty hair. The younger congratulated himself at controlling his urge to flinch from such casual contact. 

 

Matt was Jeremy’s favorite. He was funny and kind and quiet and safe and Jeremy enjoyed spending time with him, working on Lets Builds for the Achievement Hunters across the hall. He had been working at Rooster Teeth for three weeks now and he absolutely loved every second of it. The different computer programs still scared him but, like Geoff promised, he was not thrown to the sharks and was trained to use each program as needed. Immediately after he had agreed to work for Geoff, the man had squealed (literally, full on squealed like a little girl) and took him shopping with his wife (“For the essentials,” Griffon argued in a no-nonsense tone, patting his head as she compared different hair gels).

Jeremy still wore only long sleeves, too ashamed of the scars littering his body to ever uncover, no matter how accepting and open-minded Geoff and Griffon seemed. They allowed his hoodies easily enough though, only sending him the occasional worried glance on particularly hot days. 

He was working on editing one of the AHWUs when Trevor threw a stress ball at him, breaking him from his concentration. “What?” He asked, annoyed at the interruption.

Trevor gave him one of his signature smirks. “Gavin forgot to give me his recording for their Minecraft Lets Play. Would you go get it for me?”

Jeremy snorted, “Why should I?”

The taller man held up a bottle of Jack Daniels tauntingly. “Bevs and good ol’ fashioned COD at mine and Matt’s tonight?”

He stood up, giving Trevor a withering glare as he trudged towards the door. “You were gonna do that anyway.”

Trevor nodded sagely, giving Jeremy a smile. “Very true. You’re the best, Jer-Bear.”

“Don’t call me that,” he hollered as he walked out of the room. Thanking every god he could think of when he saw that the on-air light was off meaning it was safe for him to enter the room without having to worry about what he might be walking in on. 

There was a shrill scream as he entered the room, a blonde blur speeding past him to take refuge behind his back. Michael stood in front of him, nostrils flared and a wide, predatory smile in place. 

“Quit hiding behind the new guy, Gavvers, and accept your fate,” the red head declared, wiggling a slice of damp bread in his hand. 

Gavin squeaked, grabbing Jeremy’s shoulders in defense. Jeremy froze, eyes widening as Gavin’s hands aligned perfectly with the handprints branded on his skin. His shoulders heated as he reached to grab the blonde’s hands to pull them away, eyes widening in fascination as the black handprints on the tops of Gavin’s hands faded to white when Jeremy released them. Gavin froze too, staring wide-eyed at the shorter man in front of him. 

“You—” he murmured, grabbing at Jeremy’s shoulder, pulling the fabric away from his neck with no preamble where the younger knew the finger prints there would be faded to white too. “You’re—”

Jeremy nodded, still flabbergasted. 

“What the fuck just happened?” Michael interjected, chucking the piece of bread at the garbage bin in the corner. 

Gavin held up the back of his hand for Michael to see, still gazing in amazement at Jeremy’s shoulder. 

“Holy fuck, Gav. Lil’ J is—?”

“Yeah.”

The blonde stared at Jeremy a bit longer, not saying anything before slowly releasing the younger man when Michael reminded him they were supposed to be recording a playpals. Gavin grasped the back of Jeremy’s neck tilting his head upwards, still gazing at the younger man in amazement. “I’ll take you out to lunch in a bit, alright love? We’ll get to know each other all proper-like.” 

Jeremy nodded, allowing Gavin to place a chaste kiss on his forehead before stepping away. 

The younger wandered back to his desk and sat down. Staring blankly at his monitor as he rubbed his still-warm shoulders absently. 

“Hey, where’s Gav’s recording?” Trevor asked, coming over to lean against Jeremy’s desk, arms folded across his chest. “Jeremy? You alright, bud?”

“Huh?” Jeremy asked, shaking his head to clear his brain. “What’s up?”

“Gavin’s recording?”

“Oh, I—uh, forgot. Sorry.” Jeremy turned around intent to get back to work but Trevor was having none that, turning the younger’s chair to face him.

“What do you mean you forgot? It’s the only reason you went over there.” 

Jeremy rubbed at his shoulder again, eyes going distant. Trevor narrowed his eyes and reached out, pulling the boy’s shirt away from his neck, gasping when he saw Jeremy’s white handprint. “Did that just—? Gavin is your—?”

He nodded, shrugging away from Trevor’s hand.

“Congrats, man,” he cheered, giving Jeremy a pat on the back on his way back to his desk. “You deserve them.”

 

Gavin talked about Ryan a lot. According to the man, Ryan was currently in Australia with Jack but was very much looking forward to meeting Jeremy when he got back. Jeremy was less excited. It was painfully obvious how much Gavin loved the older man and Jeremy wasn’t sure where he was supposed to fit in to their dynamic. And what if he didn’t have Ryan’s hands too? Gavin said that Ryan still had a set of unresolved prints but that didn’t mean they were Jeremy’s. And where did that leave Jeremy if that was the case? He couldn’t expect Ryan to share Gavin—didn’t want him to have to. Their love for each other was seamless and Jeremy definitely didn’t want to be the one to tear them apart. And what if he did have Ryan’s hands? How did he fit in with two people who had years together on him? Nevertheless, he smiled and nodded along whenever Gavin brought Ryan up because that’s what Gavin wanted and Jeremy wanted to make Gavin happy. 

And Gavin made Jeremy really happy. 

They were hanging out in Geoff’s living room, feet in each other’s laps as they watched some shitty horror movie when a man strolled right through the front door, walking directly over to Gavin to place a kiss on the blonde’s head before the other man could even process what was going on. 

“Rye-bread,” Gavin squealed as he jumped off the couch to give the man a proper hug, making little noises of excitement. Jeremy pulled his knees up to his chest, unsure what to do with himself now. “What are you doing here?”

The older blonde smiled, giving Gavin a fond smile, “Well when you weren’t at home I texted Geoff, and he told me you were hanging out here with your new boyfriend.” Jeremy ducked his head, wanting nothing more than for the couch he was sitting on to swallow him whole. Oh god, what must Ryan think of him? Ryan released Gavin and came over to Jeremy, kneeling in front of the youngest lad. “You must be Jeremy. Gavin hasn’t stopped talking about you.”

Jeremy gave Ryan a tentative, nervous smile. “Same.”

Ryan reached out, taking Jeremy’s wrists in his own, fingers lining up perfectly underneath his sweater. “It’s good to finally meet you, Jeremy,” he murmured, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to Jeremy’s cheek.

Jeremy release a deep, shuddering gasp of relief and leaned forward, burying his face in Ryan’s neck and wrapping his arms around the older man’s torso. Ryan gripped him tightly, holding the younger man to his chest firmly. Gavin came and sat on the floor next to Jeremy, wrapping an arm around each of his boys. “You kept us waiting for so long, Jer.”

“M’sorry,” Jeremy muttered, face still buried in Ryan’s neck. 

The eldest chuckled, his body jostling Jeremy and Gavin with the movement. “Nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart. We’re just glad we have you now.”

Jeremy wiggled slightly, peering over Ryan’s shoulder to pull up his sleeves slightly, releasing a huge breath of air as he saw the white handprints staring back at him.


End file.
